


Alone

by Katrika



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Brainbent, Gen, Heavy Drinking, Humanized, Mental Illness, Reckless Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-17
Updated: 2011-12-17
Packaged: 2017-10-27 11:19:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/295250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katrika/pseuds/Katrika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vriska's finally gotten the staff at St. Lobaf's to let her out, and the first thing she does is run away for two weeks. What happens during that time?</p><p>(Underage tag to be on the safeside - sex is implied, Vriska is 17, and I don't know what state this takes place in.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone

The first few hours on her own, Vriska wanted to dance. Finally, she was out of that place, with its condenscending workers and psychoanalysis bullshit! Finally, she could have some real fun, not that artsy fartsy macaroni torture and thousand piece jigsaw puzzle snorefest. With a grin, she pulled a handful of cardboard puzzle pieces out of her pocket scattered them in the rode. She could almost see the agonized look on Maryam’s face!

Yes, the first few hours were good. She had no idea where she was going, but it didn’t matter. She’d figure something out. She always did.

That night, she slept on a park bench, and when she woke up, she was like an entirely new person. This didn’t particularly distress her; she’d gotten used to it a long time ago. Instead, she ran through the checklist in her mind, trying to sum herself up in a few words.

 _My name is Vriska Serket. My favorite color is green, the fresh spring green of leaf buds. I like spicy food and all you can eat buffets. My favorite sound is thunder. I’m scared of the dark. I like to party, drink, and dance. There’s a kareoke bar downtown I wanna try out. I’m bisexual. I like to pick fights._

 _I have no family. I have no God._

The next two weeks went past in a blur of booze and bodies. Vriska always seemed to find someone to go home with, and she basked in their longing looks and questing hands. She told them all she was 19. She told them she’d lost the arm in a car accident when she was 8. She told them her mother had died last year, and she was all alone in the world. Sometimes, when she woke up in the middle of the night crying, and they held her and told her it was okay, she told them she loved them.

Always, after a few days, she told them she hated them and never wanted to see them again, and she’d leave to seek another party and another lover.

Eventually, nobody took her home anymore, and the longing looks morphed into bitter glares. They called her a crazy bitch. They called her a slut. They called her a liar and a thief and an alcoholic, and she heard every damn word, because they meant for her to. They said she wasn’t worth getting involved with, and she nodded along in her own little corner of the world. Maybe they were right. They made some good arguments. It didn’t matter. They were looking at her and talking about her, and that’s what mattered.

She was alone.

She drank, and as she drank the bartender cut her off, so she went to the next bar, and the next, and the next. She might have gotten into a few fights. She might have groped a few people. She didn’t remember. It didn’t matter.

She threw up, and then she drank some more, because her stomach was empty, and emptiness was bad. She could afford to drink whatever she liked. She’d stolen wallets along with hearts, after all. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, and nobody could judge her for that.

Her world spun and pulsed and wavered, and still she drunk. She couldn’t remember where she was. Her world was neon lights, and brick walls, and puddles on pavement, all mixing and dancing together, and she was pretty sure her name was Vriska Serket. She tried to take another drink, but the bottle was empty, and she slid to the ground, laughing and crying. Empty, empty, everything was always empty, wasn’t it? People always treated her bad, but she knew the truth. Everyone was exactly as empty as she was.

She threw up again, lying on her side, and couldn’t get to her feet no matter how hard she tried. She was cold. Someone was talking to her, but she was cold, so cold, and her lips were frozen together, which would explain why her skin was so blue, wouldn’t it?

When she woke up, she was in the hospital, and she was an entirely different person.

 _My name is Vriska Serket. My favorite color is blue. I hate drinking. I hate noise and partying and people and my head hurts. I like mexican food. I like neon lights. I like pirates. I’m scared of being alone. I like the dark. I like rain._

 _I have no family. I have no God._

 _I am alone._


End file.
